


Look At That, Would You Look At That

by Illusions_and_reality



Series: Hotdaga Fic, But It's Based On Songs [4]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Hotdaga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, This Is Fine, also mentions of alcohol, anyway have fun kiddos, because i cannot resist, but it's not exactly a happy marriage, but we're going to ignore that for the time being, but yes, here we go with the long ass tags again, i think this is a mafia au?, it's also a, it's some sort of au, smoking in this fic, so that's just a warning, so there is, they're already married in this!, yeah they cheat on each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 21:12:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18126560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illusions_and_reality/pseuds/Illusions_and_reality
Summary: Mike and Ernie don't really talk to each other, not anymore.





	Look At That, Would You Look At That

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheHotdagaIsTrueArt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHotdagaIsTrueArt/gifts).



> Hello, this was requested by my amazing friend: TheHotdagaIsTrueArt.
> 
> I will never tell you that I don't love you, dude, because it simply would be the worst told lie I've ever had.

Mike scowled as he looked over all of the people in the bar. He’d had no reason to come here other than work, and the convenience of the noise all around, but the sheer annoyance it made him feel was enough for him to leave early, right after he’d gotten the gist of what happened, scowling at no one, at nothing.

Bars had always been too rowdy a place for him, made him want to stab the slightly sticky counter, or maybe light a cigarette in the middle of the place, take a drag, then throw it on the floor and watch it all burn.

He'd always liked playing with fire.

Maybe it made it worse, the fact that he knew who sent the guy, who chose the place just to piss him off.

He did end up lighting a cigarette, not inside the bar, but when he left and stood outside in the alley. The feeling of smoke leaving his lungs had always been nice.

Who gave a shit about cancer anyway, when you'd lived longer than you were supposed to?

 

Someday he'd leave.

Twisting the ring on his left hand, pushing it so it circled his finger, the feeling of his thumb against metal.

It was dirty now, Mike had taken it off enough for that, never bothered to clean it, it wasn't like he cared anymore.

Neither of them cared, but maybe that's why he kept it on, the chance to piss off his husband wasn't a chance he'd give up too easily.

And they'd never talked about divorce, never asked for papers. So horrible to each other that it wouldn't matter. And their jobs would cause a problem in court.

Mike threw the rest of the cigarette down and stepped on it, blowing out the last of what remained in his body, then took off down the street.

He didn't mind the walk, it was close to his house anyway.

Knowing someone didn't love you, knowing that they'd gladly get rid of you if they could, knowing that what you had wasn't from love.

Well, that was terrible to some people, to him it was wonderful.

He'd never been the nicest anyway. The thought of family with that man, or something that he couldn't get out of easily, made his skin too tight.

There was a reliance there, they didn't stay with each other just for funsies. He didn't know what it would've turned out to be otherwise.

 

There was some sort of trust.

There was always some sort of trust in a relationship like theirs. You wouldn't let just _anyone_ see the worst of you.

You wouldn't let just anyone hiss threats as you left them in the house alone, let anyone pick you up by your collar and not even flinch, let anyone kiss you senseless after you knocked their gun out of their hand.

He'd called his husband countless things he hadn't meant, and he knew he did the same, had heard it.

To be honest, it was almost refreshing.

Of course, they'd _been_ in love before, back when they were still young, younger than they were now. Mike might've even still been in high school.

They'd had plenty of good times together, far more bad, and so many that held no meaning whatsoever now.

All their time spent together left him feeling something that he'd shoved down a long while ago, not wanting to have it come back in case it wasn't returned.

It wasn't hate, it wasn't anything violent.

It was the fact that he was still in love, even after all of that bad had happened.

He didn't want to be in love, the feeling was overrated, especially for situations like this, like his.

Ones that had no love anymore.

 

Mike growled when he realized that he hadn't made sure the locks hadn't changed on the door, one quick try with his key was all the proof he needed.

He found something soon enough, a letter- not even, it was a post-it note- with a key taped to it and no explanation.

Because of course, Ernie would do that. Anything to mess with him.

He opened the door, slamming it behind him when he came into the house, going up to where he _knew_ Ernie was. Where he always was.

When he got up to their bedroom, he found Ernie leaning out the window, a slight smile playing on his lips as he turned around and pulled Mike closer by his belt loops, dragging him into a kiss, what would've been a kiss, and blowing smoke into his lungs.

“Welcome home, baby,” He said, turning around again and stubbed his cigarette out against the window frame, listening to Mike choke on the smoke.

“Ah yes, those fantastic words,”  Mike huffed when he'd recovered, refusing to give in to the urge to cough, “Glad to be home, honey,”.

He didn't smile when he saw Ernie twitch at the name, closing the window and taking a deep breath of what could have been clear air.

“Are we actually going to go through the motions? Exchange pleasantries when we both know how it's going to end?” Ernie stepped closer, towering over Mike in a way that made him frown more somehow, “We both know it's late, and I'm not in the mood for this.”.

Maybe Mike wasn't trying hard enough to save something he knew was dying, but at this point, he didn't care. At some point, they both stopped trying, and nights ended like this, staying up till the early hours of the morning, and waking up too late.

 

This routine had become far too familiar to him, but he wasn't going to change it. At least they could act like some sort of happy couple for a little while, instead of packing their things in the middle of the night and leaving the other in a house filled with fire.

The first thing that he lost was his suit jacket, tossing it somewhere in the corner of the room, then looking up expectantly at his husband, sitting down and leaning back against the mattress.

Anything to piss the other off.

Ernie gathered him up in his arms though, which was a surprise to him, letting out a small yelp and digging his fingers into Ernie's shoulders, heels into his back.

“Just as I expected, huh. You really are getting predictable, Micheal,” Ernie's right hand on his back, left under his thigh, holding him in a way that suggested he thought the exact opposite of all the words he'd been saying.

Held him gently.

That was odd.

Mike took a hand away from where he was holding on, pushing back some of Ernie's hair, letting it linger on the back of his neck, and pulled him into a kiss. Maybe they smelled like smoke, and other people, maybe they'd done this more times than they could count, maybe they were intentionally being assholes.

It didn't matter this time.

 

Everything blurred together after that, everything so familiar and so different at the same time.

 

Everything hurt.

Of course, it did, it always did, but this time it hurt differently.

They hadn't _done_ anything last night, almost as if was a temporary distraction from something else, but that didn't matter now, all that mattered now was that they were there, safe.

Smelled like each other again.

It was late now, nearly eleven in the morning, and Mike had only just woken up.

It wasn't enough sleep by any means, but it was manageable.

What was even more different though, was the hand holding his, arm over his waist to do so, and it was weird.

The whole concept of a normal relationship with Ernie felt weird.

“I don't mean it, you know,” Words spoken so softly on the back of his neck, whispered like Mike shouldn't be hearing them, “I don't mean it when I say I don't love you,”.

Mike froze. Stopped moving, stopped breathing, waiting for some sort of thing to follow it.

Nothing did, just kisses on his neck, his jaw, his shoulder, and a faint smile on his face knowing that he wasn't supposed to hear that. Wasn’t supposed to know, to experience that little confession.

But he wasn’t about to say anything, he owed Ernie that much.

And he wasn’t about to admit to himself that he felt the same way, not here, not now.  
Possibly not ever.

Mike shifted away from Ernie, from the feelings around his neck and shoulders, feeling Ernie’s hand leave his quickly, almost like he didn’t want to be caught.

“Well, look who’s up. Good morning, angel eyes,” Ernie pushed Mike’s hair out of his eyes, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Mike sat up and rubbed at his face, sighing quietly when he looked down at Ernie. Might as well spend the morning with him, they didn’t have much else to do until dark.

He wasn’t going to act as if he liked it though.

There were just some things you couldn’t exactly go back from.

 

The thought of being alone was terrifying, Mike could admit that much, though only to himself. Maybe that was why they wore the rings still.

Whatever it was, it made his head spin, holding onto Ernie like a lifeline, because in reality? He kind of was.

Like a nightlight in a child’s bedroom, there to keep the monsters at bay.

Mike didn’t know what he’d do without him, as terrible as it was.

 

And that nightlight didn’t really work, he supposed, considering it only brought the monsters toward it.

**Author's Note:**

> I wonder if they ever sort out their issues. I don't know.
> 
> I know I'm the person who wrote it, but I don't know shit about anything.


End file.
